


It Seems

by daikuun



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, Depressing, Depression, Feels, Forgive me I'm torturing this precious boy, Gen, Heavy Angst, Homophobic Language, Hurt No Comfort, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Sad, Sad Ending, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Slurs, Suicidal Thoughts, Unresolved Emotional Tension, triggering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 14:52:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7578367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daikuun/pseuds/daikuun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hinata's mind was swirling with reasons as to why he shouldn't be alive. Why he didn't deserve to see his friends smiles and why he didn't even deserve friends in the first place. It was hard to breath. It was hard to see. He couldn't handle it anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Seems

**Author's Note:**

> I was feeling pretty shitty like an hour before I wrote this and I just seriously needed to vent somehow. This is all from personal experiences and I'm going to be mashing up a lot of reasons how I usually have anxiety attacks/freak outs. Also forgive me for having the sweet sunshine boy go through this as a coping mechanism. 
> 
> (Keep in mind this fic DOES have graphic depictions of SELFHARM and it can be triggering to some.)

_Stop. Please, just stop. Stop, stop, STOP. I can't breath. It hurts. It all hurts so much. Why, why why? Why? This isn't fair. Nothing's ever fair. Give me a break, please. Please, just let me be happy. It hurts. IT HURTS._

Hinata's pathetic whimpers spilled out of his raw throat, cracked and quick. It did hurt. His body was slumped on the hard ground, the right side of his face pushed into the carpet painfully, the scratchy material making his skin crawl. It felt like his chest was on fire, so full of every emotion imaginable. Yet, why did he feel so empty? The constant feeling of pure dread and continuous terror usually overpowered the hollow feeling that surged all around in his chest. Like every night, though, he was on the fucking floor sobbing his eyes out. Feeling so, so empty.

Messaging Kageyama or Kenma had crossed his drowning mind, but he couldn't keep bothering. He always went to them when he was feeling bad. It was time to stop being a damn nuisance to everyone he loved. With trembling fingers, he curled them tightly in his dirty, messy hair and started to pull harshly. It started out with just achingly slow tugs, but it always,  _always,_ ended up with him trying to tear clumps of hair from his searing scalp. The tears felt like acid running down his red and puffy cheeks, just to be soaked in by the filthy rug. It hurt. Everything hurts. He turned his head so it was fully pressed, awkwardly, to the ground so he could muffle the cries of agony. 

_I'm ugly. Stupid. Fat. Useless. Oh god, I'm so useless. Worthless. Retarded. A faggot. A loser. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. No one loves me. No one can love someone like me. Someone so fucking ugly and dumb and WORTHLESS. I hurt everyone I'm around. I hurt myself. I'm a monster._

_Monster._

_He was a monster._

"Fuck." He groaned, his tired fingers carding through his hair over and over again. His neck was going to get raw because of how much his hands passed over it. In an instant he squeezed his eyes shut and sat up, leaning against his bed for support. He was weak. He was such an ugly mess. As the tears continued to pour from his bloodshot eyes, he scrambled to find the little box that was hidden under his bed. It was an old candy box that he started to use as a hiding place for a multitude of dangerous objects. Opening up the box, he dumped the contents on the ground and his blurred eyes scanned them over a few times. His fingers grazed over the two blades he had broken off of a razor. The lighter looked tempting. But the x-acto knife looked just as good.

A scared and rushed laugh escaped his dry, chapped lips as he realized he was acting like he was in a candy shop, picking out his favorite treat. It was fucking sick, but he didn't care. He picked up the white lighter and clicked it into life. The little, but bright flame reminded him of the pain that was always within him somewhere, burning loudly and terrifyingly. Physical pain ripped through his arm as he placed the light up close to his pale skin. The tears stopped for a while, then. All he could do was let the flame corrupt his skin that was already littered in scars. No one questioned it, though. They looked like accidental scratches and bug bites that he had happened to scratch at one too many times. After what seemed like hours, he pulled the lighter away and turned it off before pressing the hot metal top to his already blistering skin.

"Why? Stupid, stupid, stupid. I hate this." Hinata threw the lighter to the ground and just sat there. Sat there thinking about all the mistakes that he's done. Thinking about all of his regrets. He had a lot of regrets. With either always saying too much, or too little, he regretted nearly every word he has ever taken the courage to utter. He stared up at the ceiling, running bitten bloody nails along the burn. It was agonizingly painful, but it felt good. It felt good to be in power of his emotions and feelings for once. This was okay. He wasn't okay. He never was. But at the moment things seemed so peaceful, that it _had_ to be okay.

He brought a hand up to his head and grabbed a handful of hair before tugging with amazing force. Then, he started to hit the heel of his hand against the side of his head. Again. Again. Again. He saw bright white flashes cross his vision as he tried to bash his head in. Every single time he hit himself, it made him feel dizzy and sick. Not that he wasn't always feeling like that. But the blunt force made it just a bit worse.

_Why am I doing this? It never helps the next day. Tomorrow I'm still going to put on the same fake smile. I'm going to fool everyone like I always did. They didn't need to know._

His thoughts instantly went to his best friends, Kageyama and Kenma. _They knew._ They always _tried_ to help him as best as they could. The truth is nothing would really help him and he knew that. This was all his fault. Why couldn't he just be happy and normal. He wanted to be normal more than anything, even if it meant his life was boring. That was fine with him as long as he wasn't fucking _hurting himself_ all the damn time. Tears were now sliding down his cheeks again. 

_There's no point._

Hinata wished he had the guts to kill himself. It was so easy to do, as well. He could just start cutting himself over and over again until all he saw was blood. He could just sit back and let the darkness consume him. But he couldn't do it. He couldn't actually kill himself. Maybe it was a tiny spark of hope that tingled the back of his broken heart that was stopping himself from really ending it all. He thought about reaching for his sharpest blade. Tonight could be the night, though.

He ended up packing up the cursed objects, hiding them under his bed, and plopping himself on the mattress. Wiping at his tear soaked eyes and face, he let out a long sigh.

_I hate myself._

The boy didn't sleep that night, but he still dragged himself out of bed to get ready for school to face all of the people who he cared deeply for. He knew he would have to lie and say he looked like such shit because he was nervous for an upcoming practice match with a school not too far away. The ugly looking, blistering burn on his arm was just an accident when his dumbass self tried to make food in the middle of the night. Well, that's what the team would think.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from the song It Seems by Nothing More and honestly it goes amazingly with this. This turned out to be a lot sadder than I intended it to be, but whatever. 
> 
> I didn't go back and edit any of this because I'm a lazy shit.


End file.
